The Misfit to his Outcast
by Devils-Devine
Summary: My name is Hermia, the misfit of the dignified Capulet family. His name is Mercutio, the outcast of..well all of Verona. He was mine as I was his, and I loved him insatiably.


Hello Shakespeare fans! This is my first PLL story, and of course its about the lovely Hermia and Mercutio :) Which I know isn't at all original, but come on who doesn't love them?

So, I hope you like it! I love feedback ( good and bad). Just no flaming please!

Enjoy!

HErmia closed her eyes and leaned back against the foreign headboard, letting the music surround her senses, trying to forget about the way she could feel Mercutio's eyes on her, watching her.

They were sitting in his room, listening to this new band he thought she would like. He always did this every time he found a new band. He would sit her down on the bed, turn on the music, and study her reaction. She couldn't lie to him. He could instantly tell from her reaction whether she loved or hated the band. Sometimes it was scary how he could read her like a book, no matter how hard she tried to hide her emotions.

"So, what did you think?" He asked, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Well," she started slowly, "It's not really my type of music."

He scoffed, getting up to turn it off. "Hermia, just say you hate it. I know that's what you're thinking."

"Not hate. That's a strong word. More like general dislike. There was just too much screaming."

"Screaming?" He said, almost offended. "Did you hear the lyrics though? It was like poetry!"

She moved away from the headboard so she was facing him, and comfortably folded her legs under her. "I couldn't exactly make out any lyrics. There was just too much of… everything else."

He sighed, disappointed. "Alright then. I guess we can just turn on The Smiths. Unless you feel you can't bear the sound of that either?"

She grabbed a pillow off his bed and hit his arm playfully. "So dramatic all the time huh?"

He grinned, putting the music on and sitting back down on the bed and leaning against the headboard. She instinctually moved herself into her original position against the headboard, so their legs were outstretched together and slightly touching. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she realized how safe she always felt in this room, with him, away from the rest of the world. In this room, she could be herself and not have to hide any secrets of who she was or who she wanted to be. She wasn't the black sheep of he esteemed Capulets, or the girl who hung out with guys, or the girl who used to be in the "it crowd"

She was just Hermia. And he was just Mercutio.

"Can I ask you something?" Mercutio asked quietly. So quietly she almost didn't hear him.

"Sure." She said with a smile.

"How are you dealing with the whole Benvolio thing?" Ugh. The name brought back bad memories of sneaking around, being taunted by her family, and their eventual breakup because apparently she didn't think she was enough for him, and his family had moved out of town She hadn't heard from him since.

She thought about how she should answer the question. She could lie, like she did to every other person in her life. But Mercutio had been nothing more than honest with her, even when she didn't want to hear it. He deserved the truth. "It was hard for a while Mercutio, I'm not going to lie. But I'm a million times better now. I swear." And she was. She wanted to tell him that he was instrumental in her getting better, but the words wouldn't come out.

"Good." He said grabbing her hand and giving it a light squeeze. "I remember how torn up you were at the ball over your feelings for him so I'm glad things are getting better for you."

Ouch. Just the mention of the ball filled her with guilt, and she could tell that he saw that. The Ball was something that was unspoken between the two of them.

"God Hermia, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up Homecoming. It just came out."

She almost stopped breathing. Was he really going to take fault for this? "Mercutio, you're sorry? I'm the one who should be sorry. I was the one who left you, my date, and then went and hooked up with Benvolio."

"Hermia, you loved him..It's natural…"

She cut him off quickly. She couldn't listen to him blaming himself. "It's natural to tell you I only used you to get back with Benvolio? After you had been so kind and understanding to me?" She stood up off the bed. She couldn't bear to be sitting next to him anymore. She didn't deserve it. "God, I had feelings for Benvolio the whole time and you didn't even get angry! And then I treat you like that." She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.

He grabbed her hands and pulled her back down to the bed. "It was in the past, but look at us now? You need to stop beating yourself up over it."

She shook her head, letting the tears fall. "I'll never be able to apologize enough…"

He didn't say anything. He just hugged her, letting her cry into his shirt, "You apologized after…that's enough for me." He whispered in her ear, letting his breath trail down her neck as he held her closer.

She approached him the next morning, an apology letter in hand. They never talked about the letter. It was as if everything that happened at the ball had never happened, and she preferred it that way. Why? She was a coward, plain and simple.

She sniffled, pulling away from him a little, instantly missing the warmth that came from his embrace. "Thanks."

He grinned that grin that made her heart skip a beat. "I heard girls always need a good cry to make things better. Looks like you got one."

She laughed. Only he could make her laugh after that conversation. Without thinking, she leaned forward, pressing her lips against his, feeling his heat again.

He quickly jerked away, pushing her away at arm's length. "Hermia. What are you doing?"

All of the sudden, she felt so exposed and embarrassed. She had made a move and he had almost instantly pushed her away. "I'm sorry. I didn't think. I guess I know how you feel. About me." She quickly looked around for her purse. Once again, she screwed things up and she had to get out of there fast.

"Stop. Hermia." He said, grabbing her hand, forcing her to turn and face him. "You should know by now how I feel about you."

His gaze was so intense, it almost hypnotized her. "And what is that? Because I'm clueless as to what we are. What this is." She gestured between them. "What the boundaries are. Are we just friends who sit in your room and listen to music? Or can you see me as more than a friend?" What had gotten in to her? Why was she saying all this?

He laughed looking right into her eyes. "Hermia, if only you knew how much."

Her heart soared. She leaned forward again, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips against his. This time, he responded, grazing her lower lip. Her mouth opened and their tongues collided, in perfect movement with one another. He deepened the kiss until she swore she felt dizzy. Crawling closer towards him, she slid over his legs so she was straddling him. He left soft kisses down her neck that made her heart beat ten times faster than normal.

She was the first to break away, resting her hands on his chest. "I still love Benvolio." Could she have said that any more awkwardly? Here she was, on his lap, and ruining the moment by her random comment. But she had to get it out before anything else happened.

He stared at her oddly at first. " I know that."

"I don't want you to feel weird about anything." She said openly. Since he breakup she had never really admitted it out loud, but now wasn't the time to hide anything else from him. She wanted everything out in the open.

"I don't want to force you to feel anything you don't." He said, just as honestly.

She grabbed his hands, pressing it against her chest, so he could feel her heart beat. "You feel it? It's beating like crazy," she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "Because I want you."

"I'm no saint Hermia. You know about me and my past." He said, ashamed, looking down at his hands. "I'm not exactly the type you usually go for."

She cynically laughed. "You mean like Lysander or Benvolio? If neither of those worked then I need to change my type."

He smiled, holding her hand tight. "And your family?"

"They can deal. They already know how much you mean to me and that nothing they can say is going to change my mind. You are the only one who is there for me, no matter what."She slid off his lap, and laid her head on his chest, stretching her legs next to his. He was constantly saving her: from Lysander, from Benvolio, from herself.

"So we'll be outcasts together?" He said jokingly.

"We'll be the hottest misfits Verona has ever seen." She said, closing her eyes, letting The Smiths take her away.

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